


Let Me In

by Serena_Rose



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Trust Issues, What-If, platonic soul mates, season three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27416830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serena_Rose/pseuds/Serena_Rose
Summary: A broken Michael tells Eleanor the truth about Shawn's threat.
Relationships: Michael (The Good Place) & Eleanor Shellstrop
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Let Me In

**Author's Note:**

> For whatever reason, I'm getting these bursts of creative energy, enough to do these small one-parters for the last two nights. This is just a little wish fulfilment of what if Michael hadn't kept the truth about the Michael-suit. Enjoy.

**SUBJECT WAKING UP IN 05:00**

“Oh good!” Eleanor takes a sigh at the green counter flashing on the back of Michael’s office wall; “At least you’ve got a few minutes to read his file and prepare, right?”

Michael hums, still retaining that sheen of sweat on his forehead that she’s noticed since she entered. He hasn’t quite seemed his excited, determined tree of a demon-self since she walked in. He claimed it was just nerves which, fair enough, made sense considering humanity itself was counting on them.

He’d always seemed so confident since she met him on Earth. She can hardly speak for the Michael she had paired up with before, those memories were lost to her, or the brief glimpses of the ‘evil’ (still putting it mildly) manipulator she saw in the flashbacks of her and Chidi together. The only Michael she’s truly known up until now is the one before her now, the one who saved her and has been watching over her and her friends all this time, guiding them, their constant leader and protector…even if Janet ended up doing most of the physical protecting, the thought still counted, very much so.

This Michael…Her Michael…was no demon. He was their guardian angel buddy. And she didn’t believe anyone could be in charge of the experiment that would fix this screwed up afterlife more than him.

“Hey,” she gets his attention again, deciding that he’s going to know this before she leaves; “Whatever your plan is? We trust you.” 

His eyes meet hers, a smile full of surprised warmth appearing on his face.

“Your friends will _always_ trust you.” 

No one has earned that trust more than this dude.

She gives Michael a thumbs up and turns to go out the back door so he can get ready to wake this ‘John’ guy up and get his shirt together. She dimly hears Michael muttering to himself.

“You go…I’m going…And I’m gone…”

Eleanor turns in time to see all six feet of her buddy’s skin suit crumble to his knees. 

“Michael?!” 

She moves to catch him as he slumps against his desk, falling on the floor, her hands on his arm. No, no, no, what the fork is wrong?! Is he sick? Did Shawn or another demon poison him?! All sorts of horrors run through her head to the point she forgets what they’re even supposed to be starting in less than a few minutes, her focus entirely on Michael’s wellbeing. 

“I can’t….I can’t do it….” He starts to hyperventilate, looking at her, eyes wide behind those specs; “I can’t do it, it’s too scary…Oh no, oh no, oh no!”

She’s never heard his voice break like this. Fork, he’s always held it together around them, been their firm if quirky champion. Had that all just been an act?

Was the quivering wreck in her arms more like the Michael she befriended in the last reboot?

“Michael, look at me.” she takes his hand, clutching it tight; “I know it’s a lot but you need to get it together. You’ve got this!”

“No, I don’t! I don’t got this, Eleanor!” He starts to whimper, burying his face in his free hand; “I can’t do this, I’m nothing special, I’m just Middle Management!”

“Bullshirt! Dude, listen!” She says, fiercely; “You are better than all of the demons and Judges and angel nerds I’ve come across so far! You actually want to do shirt that matters, you try to get it done where they either give up or don’t care! You got us this far, man, farther than anyone has ever come out of this ridiculous system…You even got me to snap out being a selfish bench drowning in my nihilistic, determinist crab - You are…You’re our hero, Michael, don’t you get that? And you can be a hero for these humans we’re gonna welcome in too, and for every human that ever dies-.”

“You know you’re just adding to the pressure, right?” 

“Right, fork, forget that last bit.” Eleanor retreats, taking a breath; “Look, all I’m saying is, you have nothing to worry about. You can do this, I have faith in you…Me! I never had faith in anyone since I stopped believing in the tooth fairy after I stayed awake to try to mug her.”

Michael laughs with her, and for a small respite, Eleanor hopes she’s managed to crack through the stress and let him calm down. But then he meets her eyes again, his gaze lingering, before he crumbles into tears.

“No, no, no, I can’t…I can’t, it’s too much…Too much to lose…”

Eleanor looks at the timer. 

**3:28 REMAINING**

Damn, they don’t have long.

“Michael, what do you mean?” She asks, putting on her no nonsense voice; “We’ve always known what’s at stake, bud, this hasn’t phased you before, why now? What changed?”

He hangs his head, bringing his knees in close and hugging himself like a frightened kid.

Eleanor places her palm on the side of his head; “Talk to me! I just told you that your friends will always trust you, remember? That needs to be two-way, buddy. Trust me. Let me in. Can you do that?”

He remains frozen, meek sobs choking out, eyes shut.

“…For me?”

He looks up at her again, a shift in his expression. As if he’s only seen her there for the first time.

“Shawn called.” Barely a whisper.

Eleanor’s jaw clenches, her fingers tightening on Michael’s wrist.

“What…?” The fork?!

“B-before you came in…He called to say that…He wanted to taunt me about you all being tortured when…I-if we lose…” He sniffs, rubbing his nose; “B-but that also…He’s going to torture you by having one of the demons…w-wear a suit of me. So you guys think that I’m the one…I’m the one who…”

His voice breaks apart again as he shatters once more.

Eleanor’s guts twist in rage. How the fork dare that low-rent Satan mess with her buddy like that?! When they’re only a minute away from…?!

She puts her hands to Michael’s face.

“Hey. Hear me, bud.” She’s truly fired up now, “There is no way we are ever going to fall for a trick like that, even if we do lose, which we won’t. We’ll never believe any of those losers are really you. Especially now you’ve told me.”

“That’s it…That’s why I wasn’t going to…” He confesses, cringing with shame; “He said that he’d erase your memories of finding out. And…”

Another look of horror passes over him.

He tries to shuffle away from her.

“Y-you’re never gonna be sure if it’s me or not…Or if they’ve swapped me, you…” He shudders, uncontrollably, fingers clawing at his own face; “How can you ever trust me now knowing what I’ve told you?!”

He recoils as if she’s already voiced her rejection.

“Dude…It’s okay….” she tries to be soft at first, wanting to reach out and brush those tears off his stupid, pretty but stupid face.

He just shakes his head and keeps looking away.

Eleanor darts forward and reaches for his hands again, pulling them close to her. 

“Michael. I didn’t think it was possible to trust you more than I did five minutes ago but, after you just told me this, and seeing what it’s done…I trust you with everything, with every piece of this…hot soul of mine before you, ‘kay?” She tells him before reaching a hand out to stroke his cheek; “I see you. I know it’s you. And as soon as we get a moment, we can tell the others and organise some sort of plan to ease your worries about this, but for now….Just _breathe_. Go on.”

He obeys her, taking a deep breath in, then out. The anxiety remains etched into the lines on his face. No wonder, that little mental torture of Shawn’s clearly did a number on him at the worst time.

She reaches out to place her palm on his chest.

“Does that help? I see Jason do it all the time.” she asks, frowning.

Michael is able to manage a tiny smile amidst his distress, looking down at her fingers over the space where his heart should be (but isn’t).

“…It’s helping.” 

Eleanor shuffles forward on the floor and tugs him into her arms, wrapping him up in the tightest of hugs. She wishes, for a moment, she had the power to snap her fingers and take this message from Shawn out of Michael’s memories. Or just beat the shirt outta the guy. Or both.

No one messes with _her_ demon.

“I know you, man. Even without my memories…I feel like I’ve always known you. I ain’t ever letting any stupid demon make me forget you again, or the real you.” She leans in and plants a lingering, sweet kiss on his cheek, leaning back a bit to look into his eyes; “We’re gonna win this. I’m sure we will…And none too soon, we’re gonna be celebrating that victory over Shawn by burning all those fake Michael suits and getting drunk off our ashes.”

He sniffs, raising his hand to stroke her hair, tears soaking his cheeks.

“Eleanor, I…It was so hard to have you guys forget me again but…Not having you trust me, or think I’d ever hurt you again, I…I can’t cope with it…!”

“Then don’t! Don’t let him get to you!” She urges, turning to the wall.

**00:30 REMAINING**

It’s not enough time. Not for Michael to suddenly clean himself up and be as normal as an only somewhat fake angelic Architect can be. He’s too shaken up. She can give him all the comfort in the cosmos but it won’t restore his courage in time.

Well. Eleanor steels herself. She’ll have to have enough courage for the both of them.

“I’ll do it.” She tells him; “I’ll tell John that I’m the Architect. You just sit in the corner and pretend to be my assistant.”

“What?” Michael blinks; “I….I can’t ask you to…”

“You don’t need to. I’m stealing that chair of yours, bud. I look better in it anyway.” She tells him, resolute; “I can fudge my way through it and then you help me work it out from the shadows, that sound good? Like I said. We’re gonna do this as a team.”

She takes his hand and interlocks their fingers together.

“Trust me?”

He glances at their hands and then at her, taking another deep breath.

“….A-always.”

She smiles, hoping she’s not about to make a huge fork-up. After all Michael has done for her, she has no qualms about taking this role on for him to get it together. 

As the last few seconds count down, she crushes him in another hug.

“Say it with me, man.” she whispers, feeling him tighten his hold as if she’ll disappear; “We’ve got this.”

He exhales, melting in her arms for the last spare moments, before they get back on their feet. Somehow feeling like they’re on the same level now, even with the silver devil still towering over her, a renewed spark of hope in his eyes.

“We’ve got this.”


End file.
